by Zoe Knights
Eddie shook her head. “Right… anyway, have you been to the bathrooms yet?” she added. “Are they busy?”
“They’re not too bad, I’d hurry in there – it hits seven thirty, and it’s a madhouse in there.”
Eddie nodded, “Great. Thanks,” she grinned before hurrying off to get ready.
With more time, she was able to braid her hair today, tucking away a few of the more haywire strands. She felt much better, especially when she was able to walk to her first class with Quinn and without the stress from yesterday’s escapades.
She even decided less people were looking at her today.
But, when they got to their history class, they found that Mr Gregson insisted on seating plans. They had to pick a number out of a hat on the way into class and sit down to the corresponding numbered desk – a plan for which had been drawn up on the chalkboard. Along with instructions for the day’s lesson – involving a pop essay.
Well, he was certainly thorough.
Eddie felt her stomach flip while her heart sank when she realised who she had to sit next to.
She’d pulled out number seven to sit beside number six who was, of course, Samael Finley.
He was already there – surprisingly, but he wasn’t paying any attention to the class around him. Instead, he was hunched over a notepad on his desk – the task sheet for today’s pop essay Mr Gregson wanted completed by the end of class discarded carelessly to the side.
Dark hair fell past his eyes, even darker lashes shielded those eyes from Eddie’s view. Eddie exchanged a woeful glance with Quinn before she slowly walked up to his desk.
He did not look up, too involved in what he was doing. He was drawing – it was a sketch, a good one too, though a little strange – it was a long, sleek feather.
Eddie dropped her books on the desk beside him before sliding into the seat.
“Hello,” she said stiffly, pulling out a pencil from her pencil case and taking a look at her task sheet.
Sam didn’t look up. “Survived the night I see?” he quipped.
“Hm,” Eddie said shortly, trying to focus on the essay questions.
“I suppose scholarships don’t stop you from breaking the rules…”
Eddie didn’t respond, but she did clench her jaw.
“But, you were on time this morning. Well done,” he congratulated her and Eddie just sighed a little roughly, still maintaining her stony silence.
Sam finally glanced up at her, amusement in his eyes. “And now it seems fate has destined us together once more,” he quipped lightly.
Eddie rolled her eyes. “That’s one way to put it, I suppose,” she muttered.
Sam chuckled, and Eddie could feel his eyes on her – she ignored his gaze, rubbing an itch on her nose a little subconsciously and continued to read the assignment.
“You look far less frazzled today, you know. And notably less angry than yesterday.”
Eddie looked at him derisively.
“Oof, never mind. There it is.”
“I’m not angry,” Eddie said stonily, turning away again.
“No? What would you call it then?”
“Concentrating,” Eddie said stiffly. “And maybe I just don’t really want to talk to you.”
Sam raised his eyebrows. “Is this all because of yesterday?”
Eddie did not answer.
Sam laughed in disbelief. “You’ve still got a chip on your shoulder don’t you?” he seemed both amused and surprised.
Eddie clenched her jaw. “No chips,” she said starkly. “I’d just like to actually do some work.”
Sam shrugged, shaking his head. “Suit yourself,” he said lightly, turning back to his drawing.
Eddie tried not to find his mere presence annoying.
“You have lead on your nose, by the way,” Sam pointed out about five minutes later.
Eddie stopped writing, peering at him from the side. But, she ignored him, while subtly rubbing at her nose with her right hand to try and get it off.
Sam chuckled and Eddie grit her teeth. A few minutes later she glanced at him to find that instead of doing any work, he’d pulled out a bag of loose tobacco and papers from his blazer pocket and was rolling himself a cigarette.
Eddie felt positively scandalised. “What are you doing?” she spluttered.
Sam looked at her innocently. “Hm? Oh, don’t worry,” he smiled a thoroughly devilish smile. “I’ll share.”
“Gross,” Eddie muttered, shaking her head. “You know this has to be finished by the end of class,” she pointed out simply.
“Mm…” Sam murmured, casually rolling his cigarette now, “don’t particularly feel like doing it though.”
“Gee, that’s strange because I woke up this morning with a really strong desire to write an essay on Stalin.”
Sam chuckled in amusement. “Well, lucky Stalin,” he said.
Eddie rolled her eyes to the ceiling, catching Sam tuck his cigarette behind his ear. Again, gross. Yet despite this blatant display of rule-breaking, Eddie watched Mr Gregson’s eyes look at Sam, then away again without a word. She frowned in utter disbelief. Not wanting to waste another thought on this absurd boy, she went back to ignoring him.
Midway through the lesson, she glanced at him again when she realised he’d buried his head back in his books, his pencil going for the past ten minutes, which seemed surprising. He was drawing again – this time a large, wolf-like dog. Just like the one she had seen.
Unable to help herself she blurted, “Do you have a dog?”
Sam continued to draw. “No,” he said without looking up, his cigarette still neatly behind his ear like a pencil.
Eddie frowned, but looked back to her work, tapping her pencil lightly against her page.
“What kind of dog is it?” she asked, or rather demanded, and the corner of Sam’s lip twitched to a smirk.
“I don’t have a dog,” he insisted simply, tilting his head in the other direction to continue shading.
Eddie narrowed her eyes. “The one you’re drawing.”
“It’s called imagination, Eden.”
Eddie bit her tongue; why did he have a knack for annoying her so?
“You know I saw it. It was huge.”
Sam finally looked up, still smirking. “If I somehow had a giant dog,” he said lightly, “where do you suppose I would keep it?”
“Well, that’s what I’d like to know.”
Sam shrugged, that annoying smile still in place. “Perhaps if I had a dog, I’d know. Shame, really. I like dogs.” He turned back to his art and Eddie huffed in irritation before turning back for the last time, and the ignoring game continued on.
Sam then left before the lesson ended, somehow sneaking out without being missed or noticed. Eddie handed her essay in and left the classroom feeling frustrated.
That feeling of frustration was only to continue as the week wore on. Especially as she learned that she shared more classes with Sam than with anyone else.
In French, he was cocky and obnoxious. She hadn’t expected him to be in the elective – not picking him to be the linguistic type.
“Aw, Cherie…” he’d said to her when she’d looked at him in surprise as they both entered the French classroom. “Ta surprise ne fait que rehausser tes jolis yeux verts…” (Your surprise only enhances your pretty green eyes)
Eddie ignored the fact that he spoke as though he were fluent, and forced herself not to react to the compliment. Instead, she simply raised an eyebrow. “Et vos mots vides ne vous mèneront nulle part,” (And your empty words won’t get you anywhere) she chirped back loftily, irritated that her accent was nowhere near his level. She found herself a seat as far away from him as possible.
In Social Studies, he barely stayed for five minutes of the class, growing bored and restless before he just left altogether. Eddie could not understand how he was getting away with this. And yet no one else seemed to question it. His unspoken exemption to all rules was driving her mad.
Study of Religion had been the weirdest experience yet. She’d entered the class to find Sam already there – several students sat around him, all seeming to vie for his attention, but he gave it to none of them while he casually read the Holy Bible like it were a funny cartoon.
Thankfully Quinn too was in this class. She and Eddie sat together at the back of the room while Eddie whispered quietly, “What’s with that?” nodding toward Sam and his posse of students.
Quinn rolled her eyes. “His ‘cult’…” she murmured.
“Hello Eden,” Simon, the boy Eddie had seen preaching on her first day, appeared before them. “I’ve been wanting to introduce myself. I’m Simon,” he said rather pompously. “I’ve heard you’ve already been… acquainted with Samael and I wanted to warn you,” he continued strongly without pausing to allow Eddie to speak her splutter of anger. “Whatever he says,” he jerked his head in Sam’s direction. “Don’t listen. He is a Satanist. And he should not be in this class.”
“Oh, McLaren,” Sam’s voice carried across the room. “How many times? I am not a Satanist. I merely do not believe in worshipping that which you know nothing about – except for that which the victor allowed you to write. That includes God and Satan.”
“We do not need to know him,” Simon piped back. “We have faith.”
Quinn snorted quietly, leaning closer to Eddie, “Funny thing is,” she explained softly, “Simon used to be like the head of Sam’s cult. He’s totally obsessed…” she chuckled, and Eddie raised her eyebrows.
The girl named Linh with dark hair who had given Eddie the youth group pamphlet intervened quietly in Sam and Simon’s argument. “Do not antagonise him, Simon. He thrives on it. We must be above it.”
“She was the one who ‘brought him back to faith’,” Quinn commentated again, and Eddie laughed softly.
Sam scoffed lightly at what Linh said, but his eyes travelled to Eddie across the room from him. “And what do you think, Eden?” he asked, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.
Eddie held his gaze, looking at him as though he, and nearly the rest of the class, were all mad. “I think this is a class to discuss religions. And not one’s own beliefs,” she said sternly.
“Mm, true. But I’d like to know what you believe all the same,” Sam smiled charmingly.
Eddie shrugged at him, “I’m an atheist,” she said simply, and several students looked aghast while Quinn chuckled. “Well… actually, that’s not quite right. Specifically, I’m a non-theistic agnostic,” she finished rather loftily.
Sam seemed amused again. “Indeed… so why take this class?”
Eddie inclined her head, “Religion has shaped our world and still plays a large part in it today. That fascinates me,” she said simply.
Sam’s smile grew, his eyes glinting. “Does it now?” he murmured curiously.
Just at that moment, their teacher arrived, and no more could be said, though Sam glanced at Eddie several more times through the lesson.
Finally, there had been music class. Eddie played piano. She loved piano. So she’d sought out the best piano in the class, tucked herself away in the soundproof room and was working on her composition she’d started back home.
She was struggling with a chord, undecided on which way to take the tune. Nothing she did seemed to work. She tried another verse, but shook her head again angrily, stopping her tune abruptly to scribble on her score, the curly end of her braid dusting her back as she grumbled under her breath.
“Change to C major,” Sam’s voice sounded behind her.
Eddie jolted in surprise, her head whipping around to stare at him standing silently in the doorway of the room.
“Where you’re stuck. Use a G7 chord and change to C major,” Sam continued, now swiftly strolling to the piano and grabbing her pencil to scribble on her score. “There… try that.”
Eddie frowned, finding his sudden interruption rather disgruntling. But, she also liked what he had written. Which succeeded in annoying her further. She played out the new section, and it brought her song to another level. She loved it and already had ideas tumbling round in her head from where to go from there.
“Hm…” she muttered simply. “That’s nice. Thank you,” she tried to say as politely as possible.
“I know,” Eddie knew Sam was smirking just from the tone to his voice. “Now, unfortunately, we have a slight issue here.”
Eddie sighed, “And what’s that?” she asked flatly.
“Well you see, this is actually my piano.”
“Excuse me? This is a school piano. And there are plenty of others in the other rooms.”
“You shouldn’t even be using this piano,” Sam pointed out. “You’re composing. You should be using a computer and a keyboard. That’s what they’re for.”
“It’s not the same as playing it naturally,” Eddie retorted.
Sam shrugged. “Well, I’ve given you your inspiration. You’ve had your time playing it. Really you are the one who owes me a favour. So… I’m going to have to ask you politely to sod off.”
Eddie glared at him. “What’s wrong with all the other pianos available?”
“You know just as well as I that they’re not the same as this one.”
Eddie ignored this. It was true. There were three pianos. One was very tinny, the other had several stiff keys; this one was the only decent piano before being reduced to using a keyboard. “You want this piano so bad? Then play me for it,” she found herself saying imperiously.
Sam raised his eyebrows, “I’m not sure you can keep up. You should probably save yourself the embarrassment and just leave now.”
Eddie’s eyes narrowed competitively, and she grabbed her music folder and thrust it at him. “Pick something.”
Sam simply seemed to find this all incredibly amusing. “I do like the attitude,” he told her mildly, flicking through her music. “Such a shame it will end in disappointment…”
He pulled out a song and spread the sheets over the piano while Eddie stoutly ignored him. “Well are you going to move over?” he added, eyeing her with amusement.
She threw him a sizzling look before shuffling across the stool and allowing him space to sit.
He sat far closer than necessary, making Eddie huff and shuffle even further so that their thighs weren’t pressed against one another. “I didn’t expect you to know this song,” she noted idly, setting her hands above the keys.
“I don’t,” Sam shrugged. “But, it’s the only one that seemed half decent for a duet.”
“You’re planning on sight reading this?” Eddie asked flatly, trying to hide the fact that she found that more than a little impressive.
“Realising what you’re up against?” Sam quipped smugly.
Eddie rolled her eyes. “Just play,” she told him firmly. After one last irritated look, they began the song.
He was good. Very good. Infuriatingly good. He read the notes like it was the most natural thing in the world, his fingers smoothly drifting over keys so effortlessly, and yet so perfectly in time.
Eddie glanced at him, noting he had a small, soft smile on his face as he played and this made her stumble. Furious with herself, her cheeks went scarlet, and she glared at Sam when they finished the song.
He laughed when he saw her face. “It’s not your fault – you’re actually very good,” he told her, but not without a note of condescending. “But, my father is the master of music – it’s in my blood.”
Eddie narrowed her eyes and clenched her jaw. He had a real knack of getting under her skin. Wordlessly, she grabbed her music and books before hopping up to leave the room. She had lost the deal after all. The most infuriating part of it all was the sound of Sam’s chuckling following her out the door.
Late Night Swim
4
Alex,
I met a boy.
Calm down – don’t worry. It’s not like that. He’s the possible Antichrist. More likely he is just solely here to drive me s
lowly insane. Like seriously. Insane.
You’d hate it here. It’s cold and wet. Privacy doesn’t exist. People steal your snacks.
Don’t let that put you off coming to London for Christmas though.
Got my study plan sorted like you showed me. It really helps – but it’s like another whole chore just to be organised.
I miss you.
Love,
Eddie
Eddie sent her email to her brother and then moved on to one for her mother.
Hi Mum,
I miss you too. You’re about half and half with how much I miss the sun. School is good. Very busy. People are nice, mostly. I eat a lot of toast – apparently that’s what I do if there’s constant access to bread and a toaster. Everyone here thinks because I’m Australian that I should eat vegemite – apparently, it is very unpatriotic of me to hate the taste.
There’s a cold snap at the moment. It’s not even winter, and I’m freezing!!
What’s happening back home? How’s Dad?
Love you
Eddie
Eddie sat back before carefully closing her laptop, cringing slightly at the way it creaked and cracked.
Quinn stared at her. “Is that thing for real?” she asked, referring to her laptop.
Eddie blushed. “It’s… quirky,” she muttered.
Quinn just raised her eyebrows. “Uhuh. Another minimalist thing is it?”
Eddie narrowed her eyes. “Yup.”
Quinn snorted. “Alright. Anyway. Fresher’s party. What are you wearing?”
“Agh…” Eddie moaned. “I don’t know. I’m not sure that I’ll go. I’m not a real… party person.”
Quinn immediately turned on the offensive. “Oh, you’re going. You’re the newbie – you have to go. Plus I’ve been dying to do your make-up. Do you even own any?
Eddie’s cheeks flushed further. “I- yes, I have some,” she spluttered.
Quinn looked disbelieving.
“Well- look, back home we weren’t allowed to wear make-up at school, so I’ve never bought much.”
“And outside of school?”
Eddie couldn’t afford it.
“Look, I have mascara. And I have this powder thing…”
